Thunderstorms with a chance of romance
by Ella Inspired
Summary: Stella's afraid of thunder and who happens to be there to make her feel better? Who else but her boyfriend?


**Lemonade Mouth**

**Thundershowers with a chance of romance**

**By Ella Lavender**

Rayella is a couple in this story just by the way…I don't own Lemonade Mouth

(^^)

The thunder rumbled softly in the distance, barely heard through the hum of the blow dryer.

Stella Yamada glanced out her window nervously as she ran the warm heat coming from the device over her wet tresses. Nothing was visible in the shadow of dusk, all was a blur, coated and wrapped in the cool night air.

A quick flash of light changed all that as it broke through the midnight curtain of evening. She yelped as the thunder seemed to crash with the brief flare of the lightning's white beam.

Shakily she switched the blow dryer off, quickly unplugging everything from the mains in her room. She felt her hair drip onto the back of her shirt and she shuddered as the thunder growled from the heavens.

"Damn, I picked a bad time to take a shower…"

A flash of lightning followed and another unearthly crack trailed behind.

Practically flying onto her bed, Stella dove for the covers.

Most people would never have known it, never have thought it, but Stella had a fear of thunder storms.

It wasn't so much the lightning or the rain she hated; it was just the loud crashing she disliked which was pretty weird considering how much noise she made with her instruments (at least according her parents). This fear of hers stemmed too far into her childhood for her to even make sense of, nonetheless, she was afraid.

It didn't help either that with another flash and rumble of the storm, the ceiling light flickered off.

She ducked under her covers.

Not only was there a storm outside, her hair still dripping wet from her impromptu shower and the power to her house cut off, Stella was also alone.

Her father, George Yamada was somewhere in New York attending a cancer seminar while her mother, Charlotte Yamada was in Albuquerque for a big company meeting. Sure her brothers were home, but what good were two sleepy ten year olds?

Besides, it was well past eleven in the evening, if she'd went to bed at ten like she was told to she would have been fast asleep by the time the storm rolled around.

Inwardly the guitarist berated herself, what were you thinking, drinking eight cans of soda and then spilling it on yourself? What kind of genius drinks eight cans of soda at eleven in the evening before going to bed and then having to take a shower because you decided to trip on gravity and spill the other two cans of soda on yourself? Stella sighed and rolled onto her back, the feel of her cold, damp hair making her wince.

I should get a towel, she thought to herself as she coached herself into a sitting position just as another white beam of lightning pierced the sky and the threatening rumble of thunder chased after.

She yelped again.

This was not going to work. I can't get a towel to dry my hair when I'm too scared to get out of bed.

The revolutionary could have tried to go to sleep but her hair would be a problem in the morning and even now. Stella swore that her hair soaked right through her shirt and her pillow and the damp feeling was uncomfortable enough without the storm raging outside.

Breathing softly through her nose, Stella reached for her phone on her bedside.

**I need help**

She got four replies back a couple of minutes later:

**From Olivia: What's matter Stel? **

**From Mo: Hey, what's going on? **

**From Wen: Are you alright? **

**From Charlie: Hsfdsdf**

Stella rolled her eyes slightly. Olivia was obviously sleepy, awake but sleepy. Mo was probably more conscious but her proper spelling and grammar for a text was normal for the star scholar of Mesa High. Wen was awake but probably not awake enough to help, and Charlie, well, he probably fell asleep on his phone as he replied.

**Its fine, I'll deal. Sorry for bugging**

No reply followed this and after twenty minutes, Stella was sure they all went to sleep and thought nothing of her. But of course, why would they? No one knew she had such a childish fear such as thunderstorms.

The girl who was crazy enough to make a speech about shirts? Why would she be afraid of thunderstorms?

The girl who spat on the biggest bully in school? Why would she be afraid of thunderstorms?

The girl who led a revolution? Why would she be afraid of thunderstorms?

Stella shook her head.

Why, wasn't the question that was bugging her, she made peace with the fact that she was afraid a long time ago, but that didn't mean she was willing to face it.

Besides, what normal person doesn't get some irrational fear when alone in the dark with a thunderstorm? Don't some horror movies start out like that? She could only shut her eyes tightly to keep the thoughts from continuing in that very familiar direction, her phone buzzing interrupted her effort though.

When a stranger calls rang loudly in her head and shakily Stella picked up her cell-phone to answer the call, "H-hello?"

"Stell?"

"Ray?"She pressed the phone tightly against her ear, the sound of thunder clapping and rain pounding like bullets reached her hearing from over the line. "Ray, where are you? Are you outside or something?"

"Yeah, open your window."

"What?"

Her confusion was answered by a tapping against the glass of her window, she turned to look and almost fell off her bed as the face of the front-man appeared from underneath his hood. "Ray?"

The blonde soccer player tapped the window again, making a motion with his fingers for her to come closer. Carefully Stella climbed out of the bed, trying not to shake like a leaf as the thunderstorm continued to rage. She opened the window carefully, wincing as the cold wind hissed through her moist hair.

In an instant Ray was in her room, the window shut and the floor dripping from his soaked raincoat.

He peeled the layer of clothing off and shook off the water that got into his hair.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too," he countered as he brushed his wet hair out of his face, the signature spikes of the Mudslide Crush front-man just pointy droops sitting on his forehead.

"What are you doing here?" She repeated, "And more importantly, why'd you go out during this storm, are you crazy or something?" Stella began her rant but was cut short as the thunder applauded outside, making her jump causing her to bump against him.

He was surprisingly dry underneath the raincoat he removed, she thought absently mindedly as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Ray smirked and led her towards her bed. "Come on you, let's get you to bed."

"I was in bed, what I want to know is why you aren't."

"Why would I be in your bed?"

"…don't go there," she began as she climbed back into the familiar warmth of her bed with Ray scooting in to sit beside her.

"I was hoping you were asleep," he began, pulling her sheets closer to her form as she leaned against her headboard, after making sure she was sufficiently covered he settled in against her, resting his head on her stomach. "But your text pointed out that you weren't."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you…" In truth she sort of had, isn't that what boyfriend's are for, to annoy at all hours of the day and night with random requests?

Ray chuckled somewhat drowsily as her fingers unconsciously massaged his scalp of semi-wet hair. "It's okay; you're more comfortable than my bed anyway."

Stella felt a smile pull at her lips. "I'm glad you think I'm better than furniture."

"Mmm, you're better than furniture you smell nice too."

"Aw and here I thought you liked me more than the fact that I'm comfortable and take care of my personal hygiene," she teased, stopping in her ministrations when she noticed him dozing. "Ray don't be mean, terrifying the hell out of me and then falling asleep."

He opened his eyes, sitting up a little to press his forehead against her collarbone. "Sorry, practice went pretty late today…"

"And yet you managed to drag yourself all the way to my house during a thunderstorm at eleven in the evening," Stella remarked, failing to resist temptation and brush her hand through his hair and down his cheek.

"What can I say, I'm a good boyfriend."

"I can see."

Ray hummed in reply, his lashes brushing lightly against the skin of collarbone. "So," he rearranged himself so that he was sitting properly beside her, rubbing his eye to rid himself of sleep. "You mind telling me why you're still up?"

She glanced at him, her fingers tightening around her duvet now that she no longer had his hair to play with. "I don't know…"

His unconvinced hum made her sigh as she glanced at him again to see his eyes turn a faint red from exhaustion. "Ray are you really tired?"

"Little bit," he responded with a careless shrug. "I'm worried about you actually."

Stella felt a twinge of guilt. He dealt with soccer trials earlier in the afternoon and he had to deal with the soccer coaches on deciding who was on the team, he was probably drained physically and stressed enough, and there she went interrupting his sleep because she was afraid of the thunderstorm.

"How did soccer trials go?"

"Fine, except for a few idiots who couldn't even kick the ball and got themselves injured."

"Please don't tell me you laughed at them," she begged teasingly.

"Nah, you trained me right, I helped bring them to the infirmary and after they got their injections I laughed at them."

She snickered. "How epic were their fails?"

"One of them hit a police officer that was walking by. That cop was not very happy."

She snorted. "And the picking?"

"As irritating as usual, Brenigan thinks he knows what he's doing, but hell if I know what a guy who does wresting can do on a soccer field," Ray claimed with a roll of his eyes. "Now, stop changing the subject. How come you're still awake?"

Even in the dark of her room, he could see the faint flush of pink dancing across her cheeks and sitting on her ears as she answered, "My hair's wet…"

"That's why you're still awake?"

"Well yes and -"

Thunder pounded against the window and the squeal escaped Stella's lips before she could stop it. By the time she realized her mistake, Stella was encased in Ray's arms, her head tucked underneath his chin and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She hadn't realized that she was whimpering either until she could make out the soft words dancing against her ear.

The tapping of rain was the only thing she heard for a few minutes as she lay against him.

"What's wrong?"

She muttered into his chest. Ray raised a brow. "Stella, I can't hear you."

"I'm…"

"You're…?"

"I'm scared of thunder…"

Stella waited for him to laugh, even as a Mesa High's Power Couple, Ray Beech would not give up his pension for teasing the half-Asian guitarist, surprisingly though, the blonde front-man was silent and instead continued to ran a hand through her wet hair, the smell of jasmine and vanilla drifted through his senses.

He didn't reply just rearranged her on his lap so that her forehead rested against his chin, his thumb brushing soothingly against her cheek.

The thunder rumbled again.

"You must think I'm so stupid."

"For what?"

"For making you come all the way here because I'm afraid of thunderstorms."

"Hey when I was a kid, I was afraid to go down the stairs," he informed her. "My dad had to carry me down until I was ten after that I learnt to use the banister."

"Why were you afraid of going down the stairs?"

"Huh? Oh, I remembered this horror movie where the murderer grabbed people as they walked down the stairs in this apartment building. Also because a kid in my class fell down the stairs and broke his shoulder and arm," he recalled thoughtfully. For some reason this brought a smile to her lips. "Is that why you hold onto me when we go down the stairs?"

Ray chuckled. "That and the fact that some guys try and see cleavage as you go down the stairs, at least with my jacket on and me behind you they know what'll happen to them if they try it."

"How do you know that's what guys do?" Stella asked, looked up to fix him a curious look. Her boyfriend faked a cough.

"Ray!"

"What? I'm a guy, I've got hormones and you happen to be a very pretty girl."

Stella rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly. "Aw, just pretty?"

He looked thoughtful, pulling her away from himself to see her fully.

Even in the moonlight, he could see every part of her. Her hair was still wet, her bronzed tresses hanging in ringlets on her shoulders and curling against her soft skin, her eyes still glittering within the depths of the darkness that cloaked her. Ray's hand trailed from her cheek to her neck to touch the collar of the shirt she wore. His brow rose.

"No, you're damn attractive but there's no word to describe when you're wearing my shirt."

"You can't even see me in it," she countered, her hand holding his outstretched forearm.

"No, but I know you're wearing it and that's enough of a turn on."

His girlfriend snorted. "Control your testosterone Beech." She could practically hear his pout.

"Then don't tease me."

A flash of lightning and a flash of thunder cut off Stella's retort as she crashed into Ray's arms for protection.

He couldn't help but smile. "Wanna know something?" he whispered as he held her. The thunder subsided and an instrumental of rain song enveloped the suddenly still night.

"What is it?" Stella whispered back, blinking in surprise as Ray pressed a loving kiss against her forehead.

"I really love thunderstorms."

**FINIS**


End file.
